


Let's Fuck (Up The Friendship)

by j_obsessed



Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [10]
Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Choking, Dirty Dancing, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oh My God, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Requested fic, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28004715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: Uh. I'm sure you can guess...?Have fun 😁😅
Relationships: Jos Buttler/Joe Root
Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887832
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	Let's Fuck (Up The Friendship)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KingOfNewYork1899](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfNewYork1899/gifts).



> For my dear, who requested this a while ago... I wanted to get it perfect... so I hope this does it for you ;)  
> ALSO- CONGRATULATIONS ON FINISHING YOUR MOCK EXAMS MY DEAR <3 IM SO PROUD OF YOU.

It wasn’t too long ago, maybe only two or three weeks actually, when he was clouded in some sort of jealousy after being at a party, where Joe had gotten incredibly close to… well… someone else who wasn't Jos…

They’d just left Chris and Jonny’s place, walking out to the blonde keeper’s car, when Joe’s back had suddenly been pressed against the BMW door, Jos’ hands slipping under his sweater, fingers teasing the skin, mouths inching closer and closer, before suddenly he pulled away in shock, apologising ferociously for his behaviour. Joe’s eyes had been so dazed, captivated, reaching forward, almost asking why, why did you stop, please don’t stop-

That was simply because Joe was being… looked at... by a lot of people. Barely any cause for concern, but all Jos wanted to do was shove Joe against the car door and make out with him in the middle of the street to remind himself that Joe is his boyfriend, thank you very much.

But that is absolutely _nothing,_ compared to what Jos is feeling right now.

Right now, Jos is leaning against the bar, nursing some sort of something that Morgs had ordered for him. Nursing is probably the wrong word, though, because Jos is about to break the glass with his bare hands.

He was talking to Joe, or rather, denying being dragged onto the dancefloor by Joe before someone else slithered up beside his boyfriend.

Joe doesn’t look at all interested, but that doesn’t stop the possessive little voice in Jos’ head from shouting. Because it’s not exactly obvious that they’re here together. They aren’t very public about their… entanglements, so to everyone around, Jos and Joe really are “just friends.”

Jos pointedly faces away from them, bringing the glass to his lips to hide a grimace, knuckles going white as the man slides closer, slipping an arm around Joe’s waist. “Hey, sexy. Wanna dance with me?”

“Uh, no. Can you leave me alone?” The batsman isn’t necessary scared, or particularly worried, but… Joe would never go out with a guy like this. Not if he wasn’t with Jos. Not if he was more single than a pringle. Someone with this sort of unwarranted arrogance, and disgusting leer and creepy intentions- no thanks.

There’s an uncomfortable sort of heat against the cut of his jaw, as the man leans closer, and presses his lips to his ear. “Come on pretty, why don’t you ditch the bodyguard and let me show you how a real man can move?”

This time, Jos can’t exactly help himself. He grabs the stranger’s wrist and shoves him off Joe, with probably a little more force than was warranted. “He asked you to leave him alone. Don’t you fucking know the meaning of no?”

“Didn’t say no, did he? Maybe he was looking for some attention from a _proper_ man-” The man makes to put his hand back on Joe, but Jos is quicker, moving sharply to catch it mid-air, standing in front of the younger batsman immediately, fists clenched and eyes inflamed.

“Touch him, and I’ll break your fucking neck.”

The fear in the man’s eyes is almost palpable. It takes exactly two nanoseconds for him to disappear cowardly with useless stammered apologies. Not at all too soon, Joe thinks, because his boyfriend was definitely about to throw a punch.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine,” Joe affirms, fingers stroking smooth circles against Jos’ shoulder, “Can’t help it if I’m hot and everyone wants me,” he adds with a grin.

Jos smiles despite himself, jealousy only half-forgotten, which is probably what prompts him to say… “You still wanna dance, my love?”

“Your love?” Joe looks both surprised and impressed. “You want to dance with me?”

“Gotta show you how a real man can move,” Jos winks, revelling in Joe’s laughter as he tugs his boyfriend into the centre of the dancefloor, where everyone is either too drunk or too turned on to notice them.

Had you asked Joe two weeks ago, if Jos was a jealous person, he would have said no. Evidently, he would have been wrong. That’s excusable though, because, if anyone hits on your boyfriend, a little jealousy is fair enough.

However, had you asked Joe maybe a week ago if Jos could dance dirty, he’d have laughed in your face and asked if you even knew the keeper. But he also would have been wrong. Very, very wrong.

Because. From the moment Jos presses up behind him, it’s like he turns into fucking Usher or some shit. Jos has absolutely no regard for anyone around them, or for the fact that they’re in public, as he pulls Joe flush against his chest, and rolls his hips forward dirtily.

“Jesus fuck- Jos-”

“Shh. Just let go, sweetheart. Let me touch you.”

They aren’t like this. Usually, they can’t be. Because they’re people in the public eye, with jobs and lives that are constantly scrutinised. But they’re surrounded by people who are too busy fucking each other on the dancefloor to care about who they are. The anonymity is maddening.

Holding hands, like all couples do, is something they have to refrain from. Can’t kiss, can’t stare too long, can’t touch. (Or at least, they aren’t supposed to.) So to be touched like this, in public, is enough to make Joe shudder. He closes his eyes and gives in to it, letting his head fall back onto Jos’ shoulder, melting against his body, reaching a hand back to entangle into his hair.

He lets out a soft groan, and the satisfied hum of appreciation against his neck raises goosebumps all over his body. “Sound so gorgeous, angel, such a pretty sound. Think I could get you to make some more for me?”

Jos presses gentle kisses across his shoulders, teasing with his tongue, before turning Joe to face him. The younger’s breath hitches in anticipation as Jos leans in- the keeper still keeping a respectable distance between them, giving him the option to say no.

But how could he fucking say no? All Joe wants to do is grab one of the microphones and tell everyone that Jos belongs to him, and that Jos makes him happy and that he’s in love. “Kiss me.”

The keeper wastes no time in fisting a hand into his boyfriend’s shirt, pulling him even closer. Jos’ eyes flick down to Joe’s lips, tonguing over the bottom one softly, waiting, leaving them both craving…

We’re already six feet deep, let’s fuck up the-

Before he tilts his head and kisses him filthy, right in the middle of the fucking dancefloor. Joe whimpers into his mouth, fingers of one hand tangling into Jos’ hair, and those of the other clutched at the neckline of his boyfriend’s shirt. And combined with the sensual grind of Jos’ hips, Joe is caving under the assault. He’s not focused on anything, except for how Jos feels up against him like this, pressed close, enough that he can feel everything. Hard muscles, among other things, and fuck-

Jos catches Joe’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it a little before releasing it with a smirk. “You know what I want, darling?”

Yeah, Joe is screwed. Jos’ voice is deep, and low, but just loud enough to be heard over the inebriating beat of the song that's playing loud enough to vibrate the walls. He kisses over the cut of his jaw- an action that should be of significance, but Joe is too gone to remember why, as his hips jerk forward involuntarily.

“Wanna find a nice dark corner, so I can fuck you stupid.” The keeper punctuates his thoughts with a sharp bite to the column of Joe’s throat. “Right here, up against a wall. Gonna cover your mouth with my hand so no one hears you, screaming for me while I fuck you.” And then, Jos lets him go. Joe stumbles, unable to keep himself standing, clutching desperately at Jos’ biceps- which isn’t exactly helping his predicament. “What d’you think sweetheart?”

Joe’s far too intoxicated on Jos’ words to respond, instead choosing to focus on sucking his boyfriend’s tongue into his mouth, working fingers under the silk of Jos’ shirt. He doesn’t let go until the need for oxygen becomes desperate. But the way Jos’ eyes darken, knocks the air from him anyway.

The keeper’s eyes darken as he stares at the threadlike saliva that’s connecting their lips. Jos needs to fuck the daylights out of his boyfriend. Now.

He grips his boyfriend’s hand, and pulls him into the bathroom, kicking open one of the stall doors, and shoving Joe inside.

“You- you were serious-”

“Fuck yes I was.” The keeper pulls back for a moment, looking into his boyfriend’s eyes. “If that’s something you’d enjoy.”

“Please-”

Jos has him pinned up against the wall immediately, hands slipping under his shirt, ghosting over his abdomen and sides, before gripping tightly. “Mine.” He slots their mouths together in a hard kiss, equal parts desperate and possessive, as Joe gasps. “Fuck. You’re so pretty.”

The keeper’s hand cups the back of Joe’s neck as the younger’s head tips back against the wall, as Jos starts biting down the curve of his neck, fingers tugging the collar aside to mark the concealed flesh.

But when Jos drags his teeth across the centre of Joe’s throat, each canine lodged against the flesh right over pulsing arteries-

Joe briefly wonders if they’re even going to get to fucking. Because this is doing more than it should be. He tugs at Jos’ hair, pulling his boyfriend away from biting relentlessly at his throat. “Jos please-”

“So needy sweetheart,” Jos chuckles, pulling back just enough to let Joe turn around hastily, pressing up against him- just as close as they were on the dancefloor. Joe knows, that if Jos moved right now, he’d sink into the floor, the weight of his boyfriend’s body the only thing keeping him standing. “But you’re gonna have to be patient my love, I’ll have to use my fingers to-”

“No, you won’t.”

The keeper arches an eyebrow. “Oh?” Jos almost pities his poor boyfriend, whose face is flushing miraculously. But it makes him look even more innocent, and Jos is struggling to do anything but entertain the thoughts about defiling him.

“Mmh-” Joe did not mean to admit that. He wasn’t supposed to admit to Jos, that he’d fucked himself open on three fingers before getting dressed because he just wanted. He also wasn’t supposed to admit that he didn’t let himself finish- because if it’s not Jos’ hands, it’s just not as good. It doesn’t feel the same unless he’s gasping Jos’ name and coming over his boyfriend’s fingers. It doesn’t feel the same unless Jos is talking, calling him my love, my angel, my perfect little slut- with that voice, moaning softly against his ear and praising him…

Joe wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.

But when you don’t live with your very hot boyfriend, after coming back from six months on tour with him- fucking in every hotel room, in beautiful places all over the world… Joe’s deprived.

“Fuck you’re hot, how are you even mine-” Jos groans, fingers moving hastily to undo Joe’s jeans, pushing them down lithe legs that he fucking adores, and wants to lavish attention over. “I promise I’ll fuck you again when we get home, lay you down on my bed and hold you up against my window-” Jos cuts himself off, moving one of his hands to cover Joe’s mouth as the younger lets out a desecrating moan.

“Gotta stay quiet for me darling, don’t want anyone to hear you hm? Walk in and recognise the voice of the English test captain, broken and desperate, just for me?”

Joe’s eyes roll back into his head. “Not just for you… if everyone can hear me.” Even when he’s so turned on, he might die, he has the nerve to be a fucking tease.

“You wanna be a brat darling?” Jos teases fingers against him, ever so gently, and nips at his ear as a warning. “I can just take care of myself, make you wait til we get home, tease you in the cab, get you so worked up that you’ll beg me to shove you against the seats and fuck you right there.”

“You couldn’t. You need me just as bad,” Joe tries, voice wavering from how bad he’s shaking.

“Oh, but I’d have you, darling. Just because I fuck you, doesn’t mean you get to come.”

Jos watches with an arrogance (totally warranted) as Joe’s resolve breaks. “N-no. No, please, I’ll be quiet, I need, please, wanted you all day, so hot when you’re jealous- please don’t make me wait-” His begging is cut off, by the opening of the bathroom door, and the following drunk laughter of the men who walk in. Joe bites down on his lip as the tension finally snaps.

There’s nothing that ever feels quite as good as the first moment when Jos pushes into him. It always has him curling his fingers into his fists, struggling to keep his breathing in check, gasps and curses and “Jos please-”

Joe’s already struggling to stay quiet. But this is where he is going to fuck it up. Because Jos is really, really good, at making him scream.

But Jos doesn’t fucking move, and it’s killing him. The anticipation is almost as good as the first moment Jos pushes into him. Almost. But not really. And there’s only so much Joe can take. But he’s stubborn.

Jos is waiting for him to break. For him to either break the silence and beg or break the skin across his shoulders with sharp nails. Joe may be stubborn, but Jos is determined.

“Oh fuck this,” Jos says through gritted teeth. Joe barely has a second to celebrate his win. Because just as Jos thrusts in, venomously harsh and with a point to prove, his fingers come up to cover Joe’s mouth, while sharp teeth lodge into the side of his neck sucking harshly.

Joe doesn’t even have enough air in his lungs for a real scream… If Jos’ hand wasn’t there to shut him up, he would have just let everyone within a ten-foot radius know, what he’s doing. Or rather… what Jos is doing to him.

While he listens to Jos even his breathing, Joe briefly registers that it’s quiet and that they’re alone again- judging by the way the only things he can hear, are the breathy gasps escaping his boyfriend’s throat.

His boyfriend seems to have noticed as well. Because he removes his hand from Joe’s mouth and replaces it around his neck. And this time, when he pulls out and thrusts back in, Joe’s lungs are full- and the cry he lets out sends a crashing wave of want through Jos’ veins.

“Still sounds like you’re screaming for me, sweetheart. Doesn’t matter who hears you, it’s always going to be my name, and it’s always going to be me.”

Even if he wanted to argue, he couldn’t. Jos could say whatever he wanted right now, and all Joe would do is take it. His hands are pressed against the cold tiles, unable to do anything, but take it, the way Jos wants him to.

Whether that’s the slow slide of his hips- back, and then forward, with practised ease that leaves him reeling, slow and deep, dragging over every inch of every nerve reducing him to a broken mess, or the sharp staccato rhythm the tells them both that they’re close.

Regardless, every time Jos pulls away, Joe thinks he’s going to stop breathing. And every time Jos pushes back in, the breath is knocked out of him, because each thrust is precise and perfect and just on the right side of too hard.

The tell-tale squeak of the bathroom door can be heard again, along with shoes shuffling against the floor, and Joe involuntarily clenches tight, muscles stiffening as Jos jerks forward, covering his mouth again.

“I don’t trust you to keep yourself quiet,” he whispers roughly, as he pauses his movements, the tip of his length just teasing Joe’s entrance. The younger whimpers, the sound muffled by Jos’ palm, before it breaks into a quiet cry as he’s pushed forward by the force of Jos’ thrust.

Not even the keeper’s fingers can suppress the sound. So he doesn’t bother. Instead, he presses his fingers against Joe’s hipbones, clutching possessively as he takes on a rougher pace. Sharp, quick movements, relentless in their accuracy- as Joe pushes his hips back, pleasure tearing through his body, as he screams.

Unwilling to let Jos off without at least a little payback, he quickly drops to his knees and takes his boyfriend into his mouth, hands working over what he can’t take into his throat, revelling in how Jos’ hands tighten in his hair as he goes over the edge.

It’s a struggle to stand again, stumbling forwards into Jos, who catches him with ease.

“Fuck. That was good.”

“Hmm. It was. _Really good._ But I still want to get my mouth on you…”

“And you call _me_ insatiable?” Joe grins as he tucks his nose into the keeper’s neck.

The keeper rolls his eyes lovingly and presses a kiss to Joe’s temple. “Nothing wrong with wanting to make the love of your life… feel good.”

“Good!? Try defiled.”

“They're the same thing when it’s you, my dear,” he says, and then lets out a sheepish laugh when Joe glares at him (without any real venom). “Sorry for being… y’know.”

Joe raises his eyebrows with a very disbelieving expression. “Don’t know if you were here for… I don’t know, the last hour…” Jos gives him another one of his looks, which prompts the younger batsman to place soft hands on his jaw, with an equally gentle “I liked it. I like you.”

Jos almost retorts, but he gets a little distracted by the gorgeous blue of Joe’s eyes, and the words die in his throat. “Like you too,” he adds, smiling at the grin it gets him. “Love you, actually.”

“I know.”

Cheeky, Jos thinks. _He loves it._ “Can you walk sweetheart?” he teases back.

Determined as ever, Joe tries to push away from his boyfriend but ends up falling right back into Jos’ arms. “Uh... Maybe not,” he admits sheepishly, giggling away as the keeper rolls his eyes and hoists him over his shoulder.

“Great. Let’s keep it that way.”

Joe’s face flushes red again and remains that way as Jos hauls him out of the club- _especially_ when Jase and Ben whoop at them. Jos only salutes them and continues walking. Seems they have somewhere to be…


End file.
